


There's Too Much Love

by countingpaperstars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Dates, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Polyship Roadtrip, well sort of plants more than flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingpaperstars/pseuds/countingpaperstars
Summary: He feels guilty when Gladio next texts. He shouldn’t be flirting with another guy while seeing him. Although, they aren’t committed in any sense of the word. Not yet, at least. Prompto really likes him though. And Noctis. And Ignis.Six.What’s he going to do?Prompto loves his job at the local plant store, especially when fate often brings handsome strangers his way. Before he knows it, he's tangled up in a web between all three and struggling to keep his head - and heart - above water.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 31
Kudos: 136





	There's Too Much Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hanabi_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanabi_Angel/gifts).



> It's a very special friend's birthday! She asked for something including Prompto, plants, and dogs, so here's what I came up with, I hope it's to her liking! Thank you for all your support, kind words, and pictures of animals and plants! I truly treasure our friendship. Happy birthday!!
> 
> Title is from the song by Belle & Sebastian.

There’s something about the color green.

Prompto inhales the fresh scent of dirt and foliage. There’s something about the way it encompasses a room, the way it breathes life into it at no effort. He loves being surrounded by plants, loves the way they fill a space with a calm presence. 

He scoops up some more soil and pours it into the new pot around the base of a thick, bushy plant. It’s flourishing, leaves glossy and full. Prompto rubs one between his fingers affectionately and finishes his repotting job. When it’s all said and done, he carries the plant over to the front window of the store and sets it on a golden yellow wire table next to a blooming yule cactus.

“There you go,” he says, cheerfully. “Nice new home.”

He dusts off his hands and potters about the store, cleaning up the mess he made. The soil goes in the cabinet under the counter, old pot in the sink for repurposing. Some other plant will grow into it someday and the cycle will continue.

A pothos plant winds around the top of the shop, ringing several others suspended from the ceiling by hooks and ropes. Wooden benches and wire tables of various heights and colors are sectioned throughout the store, surfaces covered with plants. Prompto straightens out the succulent section, watering one that looks a little droopy.

He loves his job, loves the quiet peace of it. Each plant is special in its own way and Prompto knows just how to care for them. He loves sending them home with new families, and brightening a customer’s day.

The shop dog, Lyla, lies on her bed by the counter, snuffling in her sleep as she dreams. Her coat is speckled grey and her hearing isn’t the greatest, but she makes a good companion throughout the shift. Prompto bends to pet her, scratching behind her ears. Her tail gives a muffled whump against the bed.

Stretching his arms high above him, Prompto cracks his back and steps behind the counter. The shop is quiet, passersby on the street peering in before moving on. He leans over the counter, looking at a catalogue pulled from the stand beside it.

The bell above the door rings and Prompto looks up. “Welcome!”

It’s a guy about Prompto’s age, poised on the balls of his feet as if he just sprinted inside. He’s decked in a puffy vest and a cap pulled low over his eyes. His chest heaves as he looks about the store, and Prompto frowns.

“Can I help you?”

The guy startles, seeming to just notice him, and peers over his shoulder. He must not like what he sees, because he springs into action – darting over to the counter, leaping over Lyla, and ducking down next to Prompto’s feet.

Prompto blinks in surprise, jolting into the far corner. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when the shop door jingles again.

He looks over and freezes.

Two men slip inside, cameras dangling from around their necks. One has eyebrows tilted up in a way that makes him look mischievous and the other chews loudly on a toothpick. Prompto shuts his mouth and glances at the guy near his feet. His eyes are wide, and slowly he shakes his head.

All the air rushes from Prompto’s lungs, caught in the whirlwind of the guy’s beauty – his wide, sparkling eyes, slim nose, and fine, dark hair. He looks… almost familiar. Prompto coughs, fighting a blush, and turns to the men scanning the store.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?”

Their eyes snap to him and he fights the urge to curl in on himself. One shakes his head, muttering to the other man, and they retreat without a word.

Prompto doesn’t budge, instead pretending to pour over the catalogue in case they’re watching from outside.

“You okay?” he asks out the side of his mouth.

The other guy heaves a huge sigh and knocks his head back against the counter. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem. Mind telling me what that was about?”

“Paparazzi.” The word is spat with a fair amount of derision. 

This guy must be someone important, someone worthy of the news. Prompto glances over and tries to place him. Insomnia is home to a host of stars – movie, political – but he’s always been poor at keeping up with them.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

“Why are you being so nice?”

The guy glances up at him, their eyes catching, and again Prompto is struck with an odd sense of familiarity. Grabbing the cap from his head, the guy holds it between his knees and kicks his legs out before him.

Prompto shrugs. “I mean, being hounded isn’t very fun.” He squints down at the guy. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

The guy freezes.

“Did we go to school together?”

Laughing, the guy slips his phone out of his pocket and starts texting furiously. “I think I’d remember you if we did.”

Prompto’s not sure what to make of that.

He pulls his stool over and sits, flipping idly to another page of the catalogue. He’s not really reading it anymore, instead watching from the corner of his eye.

Lyla rolls over in her bed until her head is close enough to snuffle at the guy’s legs. He puts down his phone and reaches out for her to sniff his hand. When she’s deemed him safe, he pets her between the ears and her tail starts up a steady rhythm.

“I didn’t catch your name,” the guy says. He leans back against the counter and peers up at Prompto through his fringe.

“Prompto.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“And you?”

The guy blinks, an incredulous shadow passing over his face before it’s gone. “Noctis…” he says, hesitantly. He squints up at Prompto like he’s looking for something.

Prompto squints back. “I think we did go to school together dude. Chemistry?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Prompto! Right… I remember now. You look different.”

Prompto looks to the side and shuffles his feet. “Yeah, well.”

He does look different, less like he’s trying to blend in. The school they’d gone to was nothing short of fancy, Prompto’s parents working all hours of the day to put him through. Eventually he’d gotten in on scholarship and eased some of the pressure off them, but being the odd one out meant blending into the walls more than standing out.

As if sensing the change in the air, Noctis turns his attention back to Lyla. “I texted someone to come pick me up, but they may be a minute.”

“No worries, you can chill here.”

Lyla puts her head in Noctis’ lap and he sets a hand on her head. “You worked here long?”

“More or less. It’s a good summer job between classes.”

A wistful look passes over Noctis’ face. “You’re in university?”

“Yeah, for photography!” Prompto thinks of the men still hanging out across the street. “I’d like to put my skills to better use than those guys though.”

Noctis snorts. “I’m sure you do.”

The bell chimes above the door, cutting Prompto off. It’s a regular – a little, old lady who comes every week to look at their new selections. She’s shown him pictures of her living room, the entirety of it bathed in a jungle of green.

Prompto steps over Noctis and goes to help her, pointing out the newest additions and recommending which are the best bargain for the price. When she’s satisfied with her pick, he leads her over to the counter to ring up her purchase. Noctis stays quiet the entire time, methodically petting Lyla as he waits.

“Remember, lots of light for this one. Otherwise its leaves will curl up unhappily.”

“Thank you, Prompto,” she says, and pats the top of his hand. “Such a dear.”

When she leaves he sits on the stool with a thump. “Oh gods,” he says, and puts his head in his hands.

Noctis looks up at him, but Prompto avoids his eyes. “What is it?”

“I just realized you saw me in my nerdy phase.”

Noctis snorts. “Phase?”

“Hey! Plants are cool.”

Kicking Prompto’s boot, Noctis grins. “Never said they weren’t.” He points to the shelf behind the counter. “What’s that one?”

Turning around, Prompto pulls the pot from the shelf. It’s a deep purple, with leaves that spread like butterfly wings in the sunlight. “A purple shamrock.” He hands it over for Noctis to see. “One of my favorites.”

Noctis examines it, twirling the pot around to look at it from different angles. His phone trills and he shifts the plant to one hand to answer it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be right out.” He hangs up. “Well, thanks again. You really saved my neck.” He stands and steps out from behind the counter. He sets down the purple shamrock and glances over Prompto, who twists his fingers in his apron nervously.

“It was no big deal, honestly.”

Noctis smiles. “See you around, Prompto.”

He leaves as he came – in a whirlwind that leaves Prompto feeling breathless. He sits heavily on his stool. Lyla groans and he looks over, her big eyes staring up at him accusingly.

“What?” he says. “It’s not like I’ll see him again.”

He goes back to flipping through his catalogue and tries hard not to think about bright eyes and soft hair.

  


Summer rain is soothing, in Prompto’s opinion. He loves a good thunderstorm. Lyla likes it less, but thankfully her ears are deaf enough that the thunder doesn’t bother her as much as it used to. She burrows her nose into her bed and pointedly ignores the world awash in watercolor.

Prompto opens the front door and sticks a hand outside the awning to catch some of the water. It’s fresh and cool against his skin and the scent of cooled pavement and petrichor rises in the air.

Customers are even fewer than usual, so he decides to start moving the big plants around the front table to make room for the new display. There’s a fishtail palm near the front and he hefts the pot into his arms. The door jingles and he peers through the fronds to see who it is.

“I’ll be with you in just a–”

It’s a large man, with bulk for days. He shakes off his umbrella and sets it in the stand next to the door. His hair is pulled back in a half bun, luscious locks spilling over his shoulders. There’s a scar down the length of his face, but it does nothing to mar his handsome features.

Prompto’s grip slips.

“Woah there,” says the man. He reaches out to grab the pot before it leaves Prompto’s hands. Their fingers overlap and his grip is strong and warm. Prompto feels himself swooning, just a little. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he says. “Thank you.”

He looks up, and _up_ , into the face of his savior. His lashes are thick and dark against his cheeks and Prompto swallows. He hefts to pot back into his arms and finishes moving it to its new home for the week. Dusting the dirt from his hands, Prompto wipes his sweaty palms on his apron.

“Anything I can help you find…?”

“Did you see a man run in here the other day?”

Prompto frowns. This guy doesn’t look like either of the paparazzi from the day before, but he isn’t sure why he’s asking. He decides to play it safe. “I have a lot of people in and out of here, gotta be more descriptive.”

The man looks amused, tucking his hands into his pockets and rocking on his feet. “Nevermind.”

Prompto narrows his eyes and adjusts the fishtail palm. When he turns back around the guy has wandered over to a table, reaching out to flick at the leaves of a spider plant hanging from the ceiling. Prompto wonders what he’s doing here, nerves tightening around his chest.

“So, I’m looking for a little something to brighten up my life.”

Prompto blinks and glances around the store. “Anything you have in mind?”

“Maybe.”

The man’s gaze flicks up and down Prompto and he feels himself flush. He feels frumpy, standing here in his dirty apron and old work boots. Surely this man isn’t flirting with _him._ There’s no reason for him to. “Well, why don’t I show you around the shop and if something stands out you can let me know?”

“Sounds good.”

They tour around the store, the man keeping a respectful distance behind. Prompto shows him the ferns and palms, the succulents and cacti. All the while, the man listens with intense patience. He chimes in a few times asking questions, but his eyes light up when they get to the flowers. He chatters on about his mother’s garden and all the various bulbs she’s bought for the season.

“These are beautiful,” he says. “I love Iris.” 

“Me too,” says Prompto. “You know a lot about flowers.”

The man laughs. “I’d better. My name is Gladiolus.”

“Gladiolus?” Prompto smiles. The name feels fitting, in a weird juxtapositional way.

“You can call me Gladio though.”

“All right, Gladio.”

Gladio turns to another plant and reaches out to touch the pot. “Is this lemon balm? My, uh, friend uses it as a garnish sometimes.”

They travel around the shop, Gladio pointing out the other plants he knows and their uses. Prompto has to hide his smile more than he means to. Gladio ends up picking out a weeping fig and taking it to the front counter. He leans against it, propping his chin in his hand. His eyes sparkle this close, a deep shade of whiskey brown.

Prompto circles round the counter to ring him up and notices when Gladio’s eye catches on the pins on his apron.

“Oh! My b–” Gladio stops, clears his throat. “My best friend loves that game series. I watch him play pretty often. He got me into it.”

“I love this series,” says Prompto. “So, a plant-loving, bodybuilder who loves Last Legend. Anything else I should know?” He scans the plant barcode.

Gladio grins. “Why don’t we go out sometime and you can find out?”

The scanner clatters to the counter and Prompto’s cheeks burn. He can’t believe this is happening. To _him._ He looks around the store subtly, looking for any hint of a prank.

The other day he’d met the prince of the night – a commanding presence, sure, but it’s like Noctis is hidden by a cloud; like he can’t be himself in public. But he’s still the stars and moon, and now Prompto can’t believe his luck – meeting a knight blessed by the sun.

Gladio lifts his hands and gestures with a good-natured smile. “No pressure, though.”

“No! I mean,” Prompto clears his throat. “I’d love to.”

“How’s Friday?”

“I work, but I get off at six.”

“Perfect, how about I get your number and we can pick a place to meet?”

Prompto ejects paper out of the receipt machine and writes down his number in what he hopes is legible scrawl. His hands are shaking. It feels like he’s moving through a dream. Gladio pays and grabs his plant. 

“Great,” he says, and blinds Prompto with a smile. “I’ll text you.”

He grabs his umbrella from the stand by the door and disappears into the rain. Prompto’s left standing at the register, breath knocked from his lungs and wondering just what his life has become.

  


Gladio does text. They message each other until two in the morning and Prompto falls asleep with a smile on his face.

  


It’s like a switch flips after that.

Prompto had resigned to never seeing Noctis again, but soon after Gladio’s visit, Noctis comes crashing through the doors talking about video games.

In fact, Noctis stops by so much it starts to become ritual. He sits on the counter, feet swinging, and they talk about everything under the sun and back. Prompto tries not to fall – he knows Noctis is just being friendly. He gets this lonely look about him sometimes, and Prompto doesn’t want to screw it up just because he can’t keep his feelings in check.

His mother always said he had too much love for his body.

They end up exchanging gamer IDs and spend weekends taking down bosses together. It’s relaxing and exciting, and for once Prompto’s just glad to have a friend.

  


He meets Gladio at a park in the middle of Upper East Insomnia. The trees line the grass like green lollipops, full leaves blocking out the worst of the sun. People stroll along the paths walking hand in hand and with their dogs.

“I brought a picnic,” says Gladio, and Prompto falls just a little harder.

They spread out the blanket he brought and sit across from each other, telling stories about their lives. Prompto learns that Gladio’s working for his father’s security company, as a bodyguard.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” he says. “What would you do if you could? Anything in the world?”

Gladio pops a strawberry in his mouth and thinks. “I’d own a bookstore, I think.”

They talk about books – about Gladio’s favorites and Prompto’s forever long to-read list. Prompto laughs his heart out, until his voice goes squeaky around the edges. They talk and talk until the sun begins to set. Packing up the leftovers is an easy task, and Gladio walks Prompto to the station for his train home.

Gladio reaches out, tentative fingers seeking Prompto’s as they walk. His hand is huge, but gentle, and Prompto can’t help but think that’s the perfect description of Gladio as a whole.

When they reach the station, he squeezes once and lets Prompto go. “I had a great time.”

“Me too.”

He’s not lying either. Prompto doesn’t have much date experience to speak from, but he thinks this is the best he’s ever been on. Gladio is considerate and kind, funny and entertaining.

Prompto’s caught up thinking about him that he doesn’t notice Gladio dip down to press a kiss to the rise of his cheek. He heats up immediately, raising a hand to his face when Gladio pulls away and smiles.

Gladio grins. “Does this mean I get a second date?”

“Absolutely.”

He walks away with a wave, and Prompto resists the urge to skip to his train.

  


The next day, when he passes a newspaper stand, a tabloid magazine catches his eye. It’s Noctis on the cover – some choice piece about the up and coming son of the CEO of Caelum Industries. Prompto buys it and pours over the article while he holds down the fort at work.

  


He’s still thinking about the article when he almost dies. Watering the wall trellis plants is always an acrobatic act, and he balances on a ladder with a can in hand. He’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t hear the door open.

“Pardon.”

Prompto shouts and slips off the ladder. A hand grabs him at the hip and he spins into someone’s arms, dizzy with the swirl of colors. He looks up into the face of his savior and nearly faints.

The man may as well have been carved by the astrals themselves, with sharp cheekbones and eyes that could cut glass.

“No need to go falling for me,” he says with a small smile.

Prompto’s mind goes blank and he stammers out some semblance of a reply as the man helps him to his feet.

“Are you all right?”

Not trusting his voice, Prompto nods and straightens his apron. He picks up the fallen watering can and tries not to make direct eye contact. It’s like looking into the sun.

“I came to see what all the excitement is about,” says the man. “I have some friends who love this place.” He glances at Prompto over his glasses. “I’m Ignis, by the way.”

He holds out his hand and Prompto takes it, mumbling his name, expecting a handshake. Instead, Ignis brings his hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“Charmed,” he says, and Prompto flushes.

Ignis looks about the store, expression unreadable. “I heard you have a lovely selection of lemon balm.”

“R-right,” says Prompto, still reeling. “Over here.”

He shows Ignis to the lemon balm and other assorted herb plants in the corner of the store. Ignis picks up a basil and weighs it in hand.

“I like to cook,” he says, “and fresh ingredients are best.” He glances up at Prompto, pinning him with a deadly accurate stare. “What do you like to eat?”

“Hm, me?” Prompto nods to himself. “Anything spicy really.”

Ignis hums and turns back to the plants. He carries it and a lemon balm to the front where Prompto rings him up. “I’ll be seeing you again,” he says, and whisks out the door.

Prompto hates for him to go, but loves to watch him leave. Astrals, those are some fitted pants.

  


Ignis comes by again, for more herb plants. Prompto tries to ease the stirrings in his heart and convinces himself there’s nothing wrong with looking. This time, when he checks out, Ignis pulls out a tupperware from his bag and slides it across the counter.

“For you.”

Prompto opens it and sniffs, mouth watering at the spice. “Really?”

Smiling softly, Ignis takes his receipt. “You’ll have to tell me how you like it.”

He takes his leave and Prompto can’t wait. He tears into the curry with abandon and feels his heart fall just a little further.

  


He feels guilty when Gladio next texts. He shouldn’t be flirting with another guy while seeing him. Although, they aren’t committed in any sense of the word. Not yet, at least. Prompto really likes him though. And Noctis. And Ignis.

Six.

What’s he going to do?

He sets his head on the counter. Lyla looks up at him from her bed accusingly and he sighs.

  


Prompto practices in the mirror what to say to Noctis. His tiny bathroom has a flat, yellow light in it, and Prompto’s pallid face stares back at him.

“Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Too much.

“So, I saw this article the other day…”

Not enough.

Eventually, he settles for just sliding the magazine across the counter. Noctis looks up from where he’s bent over the succulents, poking at some of the pointy ends. “What’s that?”

He walks over and stares down at it with wide eyes before his face shutters. Being closed off so suddenly breaks Prompto’s heart.

“Are you mad?”

Prompto frowns. “Just surprised, I think.”

“I was going to tell you. I just… liked that you didn’t know. You treated me normal.”

It makes Prompto wonder how often Noctis has had to screen the people he hangs around, how many treat him as a means to an end, how many only see him for his status. He swears it upon himself to never treat him as such. “That doesn’t have to change.”

A wave of relief sweeps over Noctis’ face. “Any questions?”

“Not really.” Prompto shrugs a shoulder. “I think I have a pretty good idea of who you are.” Without all that, is unsaid. Noctis smiles and Prompto’s heart gives a solid thud.

“Hey, wanna go to the arcade some day? My treat.”

Prompto stares at him, wondering if he’s asking what he thinks he’s asking. He should clarify.

“Like as a…”

Noctis rubs at the back of his neck. He’s wearing a behemoth jacket today and Prompto had swooned a little when he walked through the door. 

“A date. With me. Only if you want though,” he says. He looks anywhere but at Prompto, cheeks flushing a light pink. It’s a good look on him.

Guilt surges through Prompto’s stomach and he thinks of Gladio, thinks of the flower emoji-laden texts resting in his phone. One date wouldn’t hurt right? He’s just… checking out his options. Whoever he likes more is who he’ll pursue. People dated around all the time, right?

“I’d love that.”

  


Astrals, is he really doing this?

  


Gladio sends him another book recommendation that night – “This made me think of you :)”. It’s followed by a text from Noctis confirming their meetup time. Prompto groans and stuffs his face in his pillow.

  


Closing shifts are always fun. Prompto throws on his own music in the last half hour and dances around the store to the melody as he sprays a fern with water. Lyla follows in his footsteps, happily jumping when he sings into the spray bottle at her.

“Is this The Anaks?”

Prompto jumps and accidentally sprays Ignis in the face.

“Oh, gods, I am so sorry!” He rushes to the counter to grab a towel and passes it over. Ignis takes it with a kind smile, his glasses beaded with water.

“My apologies, I startled you.”

Prompto rubs at his neck as Ignis dries himself off, then cleans his glasses with a soft cloth pulled from his pocket.

“It is The Anaks, by the way,” he says. “You like them?”

“Absolutely love them. Their recent album is perhaps my favorite.”

“It’s so good!” Prompto bounces on his toes. “Their new bassist goes really hard, I love the riffs. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the lyrics, like…” He trails off, blushing.

“I do love an excellent wordsmith,” says Ignis. “Have you heard of the singer’s side project?”

Prompto dissolves after that, their conversation winding through the exploits of his favorite band. They slip into discussing a few different bands and the pros and cons of each. Ignis is surprisingly affluent in punk, though perhaps Prompto shouldn’t be surprised given the shoes he wears and the purple coeurl print shirt he’s got on today.

“I hope you enjoyed the curry,” says Ignis.

“Oh, right!” Prompto digs beneath the counter and pulls out the borrowed tupperware. “All washed and clean. It was so good!”

“My thanks,” says Ignis. His face is glowing from the praise and Prompto tries not to stare. He pulls out another tupperware and hands it over. “Care to try another?”

Prompto stares at it and tries to get his brain back online. He takes the tupperware and squints up at Ignis. “Are you trying to woo me?”

“Depends, are you properly wooed?”

Opening the tupperware, Prompto gives a deep sniff and has to swallow. He grins up at Ignis and says, “They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Ignis smiles.

  


The day Ignis comes in with a honest to gods mix CD is when Prompto knows he’s absolutely fucked.

“These made me think of you.”

The fact that Ignis spent the time putting a selection together and not just making a playlist, but burning it into existence, sends Prompto’s heart knocking against his ribs. He accepts the gift graciously, along with another tupperware of food. The last one had been so delicious, Prompto almost cried. He says as much.

“My thanks. And,” says Ignis, digging in the inner pocket of his jacket, “for you.”

He pulls out two pieces of paper and hands them over. Prompto turns them in his hand and reads the words along the top. They’re tickets for a bar show for one of the bands they both like.

“I was hoping you might accompany me. Although, please let me know if I’ve overstepped.”

Prompto stares down at the tickets.

Is he… really going to do this? Three men? Three _gorgeous_ men, all interested in him. The astrals must be playing some kind of joke. He should turn Ignis down, he thinks.

“I’d love to go,” he says.

Ignis smiles and it lights up the whole shop. They exchange contact information and details before Ignis heads out for the evening.

Lyla stares up at Prompto with big eyes.

“What?” he says. “I’m not committed.”

Not yet, he thinks. He’s allowed to have a little fun. With a sigh, Prompto thunks his head against the counter. What in Eos is he doing?

  


Prompto looks in the mirror of his tiny bathroom. He’s not sure he likes what he sees. Guilt is an unwelcome guest in his chest, heavy and thick as cement. It only seems to grow worse the more he sees of them. How is he ever going to decide?

He washes his face and goes about his nightly routine. He’d eaten Ignis’ food for dinner – another delicious dish that had him on the verge of tears – and texts all three of his suitors goodnight.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells his reflection.

  


Noctis shows up the following day near the end of Prompto’s shift. He digs out a treat from his pocket and feeds it to Lyla, who accepts it without fanfare.

“Ready?” he asks.

Prompto grabs his bag and waves to his coworker on the shift after him, who stares at Noctis like she’s seen a ghost. “Yeah, let’s go.”

There’s a large man with braids outside the store waiting, and Noctis gestures to him. “This is Nyx. He’s my guard for the day, hope that’s okay?”

“Whatever you need to be safe, man,” Prompto says, and he gives Nyx a nod. He gets a sly smile in return and wonders what that’s about.

They head to the arcade in midtown, as it’s one of the quieter ones this time of day. There are a few other kids playing hooky, but most of the crowds are in school. None of them look their way twice.

True to his word, Noctis gets them their cards and loads them up with virtual tokens. He passes one over and smiles. “What first?”

They settle on a shooting game and get lost in the rapid fire pace of winning tickets. Noctis laughs freely and Prompto drinks in the sight. He’s truly beautiful, all porcelain skin and fine features.

The hours tick by as they race around the arcade, trying out every game at least once. Prompto marvels at the fact that they never have to refill their cards, and his stomach twists thinking about how much Noctis must have put on them.

“I’m getting hungry,” says Noctis. “Want some Kenny Crow?”

“Sure.”

They trade in their tickets for prizes, and Prompto walks away with a new chocobo plushie the length of his arm. He carries it like a toddler, following Noctis down the street towards the closest diner with Nyx trailing behind.

“So,” says Prompto, once they’re seated and ordered. “Why me?”

“Why you what?”

“Why’d you ask me on a date?”

Noctis shrugs a shoulder and picks at his straw wrapper. He seems to think about it, and hesitantly reaches out to touch the back of Prompto’s hand. Prompto flips his over so that their fingers touch each other’s palms.

“I like you,” says Noctis, eyes bright. “You never treat me differently for who I am, you know? I feel… normal around you.”

“I think I get what you mean. It feels natural to be with you.”

“Yeah,” says Noctis. “Like breathing.”

Prompto thinks of all the afternoons spent hanging out in the shop, Noctis bringing the latest issue of their favorite comic to pour over together. He thinks of contests trying to hit the hanging pots with rubber bands and laughter bright as the summer sun.

“Like breathing.”

They don’t hold hands on the way to the station. Prompto’s keenly aware of the fact that paparazzi might be lurking around. There’s only so much protection Nyx can provide from the press.

When they part, Noctis hooks his pinky through Prompto’s and squeezes. “Message me when you get home, all right?”

“I will.” Prompto squeezes back and lets go.

Noctis waves and grins, heading off down the street with Nyx close behind.

  


Gladio drops by the shop with lunch one day, bento boxes stacked from the conbini down the street. He somehow grabbed Prompto’s favorite, and hands it over without argument. They chat about Gladio’s sister and Prompto’s newest photography adventures. It feels like home.

  


The weekend of the concert comes before Prompto knows it, and he dresses in his best concert clothes – ripped skinny jeans and red tank top that dips low along his ribs. He makes sure to wear his sturdy boots, just in case the pit gets wild. Ignis meets him outside the venue, tickets in hand and a smile on his face, and they head inside together.

Grabbing Prompto’s elbow, Ignis leans down to speak in his ear. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Please.”

Ignis heads off towards the bar and Prompto heads for the floor before the stage to grab them a good spot. The crowd is already loud above the background music, excitement thrumming through the air. A haze hangs over everyone, the bar lights dim against the backdrop of the stage.

Soon, Ignis returns with drinks in hand and Prompto sips at his with interest. It’s sweet, and fruity, and Prompto smiles. “How did you know what I’d like?”

“Took an educated guess,” says Ignis with a grin. He tosses back his own drink with a flourish, and Prompto stares at the line of his throat.

The music starts soon after Prompto finishes his drink and the crowd rushes in. Ignis sets their empty glasses on the bar and returns, wrapping an arm around Prompto as the people start to jump and sway together. It’s exhilarating, being this close to him, pressed in on all sides as the crowd sings along. Prompto catches Ignis’ eye and mouths the words to him, laughing when Ignis sings back. He wishes he could hear his voice, but it’s lost to the collective noise.

They stumble out into the street when it’s all said and done, tipsy from the drinks and the adrenaline of the show. Ignis keeps his arm around Prompto and he laughs, bright and cheerful.

“You are incandescent,” says Ignis, spinning them around on the sidewalk. Several people watch them with wide eyes, but Prompto can’t begin to care.

They part ways and Prompto texts Ignis goodnight when he flops onto his bed at home. He responds to Noctis and Gladio as well before turning off the light and falling asleep.

  


It all comes to a head that week.

Prompto sits on his stool and relishes in the fresh air coming through the open door. He hums under his breath, Lyla snoozing in her bed beside him.

“Hey Prompto.”

Prompto smiles and looks up. “Hey Noct.”

Noctis jumps up onto the counter. “Whatchya looking at?”

“The roster for fall classes,” he says, turning the booklet so Noctis can read. He’s bending over it when Prompto catches sight of someone else walking through the door.

It’s Gladio.

He looks around the shop and Prompto sits straight up. “Be right back, Noct.” He gets a hum in acknowledgement.

“Heyyyyy,” says Prompto, sliding into Gladio’s view. He straightens up as much as he can, hoping he blocks out Noctis. Not that he’s done anything to be suspicious of. He grabs Gladio by the elbow and leads him over to the corner of the store for privacy.

“There you are. I was wondering if maybe we could get dinner together later.”

“I’d like that,” says Prompto with a smile.

“Great,” says Gladio. He leans in, boxing Prompto against the wall with his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Prompto fights not to lean into his touch. He smiles and slips out from under Gladio’s arm. “I’ve got work to do, though.”

Gladio tucks his hands in his pockets and smiles. “Of course.”

It’s then that the final nail in the coffin appears – Ignis strolling through the door without a care.

“I’ll be right back,” says Prompto and Gladio nods, already looking at the new selection of flowers.

A quick glance shows Noctis still at the counter looking at the booklet. Prompto’s heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. How did he never foresee this happening?

“Ignis,” he greets, and jumps when Ignis leans in to kiss his cheek.

“Darling.”

He melts at the name.

“I–”

“Ignis! There you are.”

Prompto jumps as an arm wraps around his shoulders. It’s Noctis. He shakes the arm off and takes a step back, nervously.

“You know each other?”

“We all do,” says Gladio, coming up beside them. Prompto’s heart sinks. “These are my boyfriends.”

Prompto’s heart drops and weeks of dates and hanging out flit through his mind. His hands start to shake and he grips them tightly together. “Was this all a joke?”

“No!” Noctis reaches out to take Prompto’s hand. “We like you. All of us.”

“Originally, I was just making sure you were safe for Noctis to be around,” says Gladio. “But then you had to be cute and charming, too.”

Ignis adjusts his glasses. “I assure you we’re all quite taken with you. We know you’ve probably been overthinking and feeling guilty about having to pick one of us.”

Prompto winces because that’s exactly what he’d been trying to do – figure out who he likes more. It’s been like running into a wall he can’t get past. He likes them all equally for different reasons. How was he supposed to choose?

“We wanted to ease you into things,” says Gladio.

“I mean,” says Noctis. “This way you don’t have to choose. You can be with everyone.”

“You all… want to date me?”

“Have for a while now, thanks for noticing,” Noctis teases with a grin.

Prompto pinches his arm and jolts at the pain. Okay, so, not dreaming.

There’s something about growing up always feeling like a loser, like you aren’t good enough, and suddenly there’s three people who believe otherwise – who say, no, he _is_ good enough and want to know more about him.

“So are we still on for dinner tonight?” asks Gladio.

“With all of us?” adds Ignis.

Prompto can’t help but laugh, rubbing at his damp eyes, and says, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

He holds out his hand and Ignis takes it, squeezing tight, as Noctis throws an arm around his shoulder. He presses a kiss to Prompto’s cheek as Gladio ruffles both their hair with a laugh. For the first time since starting to date them all, Prompto feels complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Not pictured: Ignis, Noctis, and Gladio arguing about how best to woo the cute attendant at the plant shop
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts? <3
> 
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